


Reflections

by hazelNuts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Future Fic, Implied Violence, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Weapons, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:13:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the happiest day of Dean's life, and everything is going perfect. Okay, Cas has been kidnapped by Sam, but he'll see him later. Nothing can ruin this day.</p><p>
  <i>His suit is spotless, his shoes shiny, his hair combed, which means there is nothing left to do but try to tame that damn bowtie. Finally, after another couple minutes of fiddling, Dean manages something that resembles a bow. He tightens it with a smug, victorious smile, then frowns at his reflection in the mirror. He leans closer to the glass, trying to figure out what’s bothering him about it. It’s probably the damn bowtie.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> If you think I forgot any tags, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> This one was written for the Supernatural Reverse Bang ([LJ](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/) | [tumblr](http://spnreversebang.tumblr.com/)). The art is made by the awesome ZephyrChrysalis ([LJ](http://zephyrchrysalis.livejournal.com/) | [art](http://zephyrchrysalis.livejournal.com/2452.html)). Beta magic was provided by [museaway](http://www.museaway.com/).

* * *

Dean blinks down at the breakfast set out in front of him: two cups of coffee, two plates filled with eggs, bacon and toast, two glasses of orange juice, and a small vase with a white rose. The breakfast has barely been touched. No more than a few sips from both coffees and one bite out of a piece of bacon.

He and Cas woke at the crack of dawn, hoping to at least eat breakfast together before Sam came to collect Cas, but Sam turned out to be an earlier riser than even Dean had anticipated. Now, Dean is tragically left alone with a breakfast for two, the exact same breakfast he made for Cas the first time they’d had breakfast together. Simple, but tasty. Cas teasingly exclaimed Dean to be a master chef, before pulling him into kiss that tasted like coffee. Dean has never been a real coffee enthusiast, only using it to wake himself up, but he found a new appreciation for the taste that first morning, and has found it again nearly every morning since.

Well, no point in letting all this food go to waste, Dean thinks, and tucks in. He manages to get down most of his own half of the breakfast before his thoughts drift to the day that lies ahead of him. His throat closes up from the excitement. Putting down his utensils, Dean gives the remaining food a parting look before deciding it’s time for a shower.

After showering quickly, he shaves and puts on his suit. The suit feels familiar, even though he hasn’t worn one in years. The bowtie feels less so. He ties it, then pulls out the knot and tries again before giving up and moving on to his hair. He knows his fiancé—and future husband—prefers it a little messed up, but today is a special day. Dean does his best to comb it into a style that looks formal. He ends up with a neat side part, reminiscent of a military officer. It looks neat and tidy. Sam will be happy with that.

His suit is spotless, his shoes shiny, his hair combed, which means there is nothing left to do but try to tame that damn bowtie. Finally, after another couple minutes of fiddling, Dean manages something that resembles a bow. He tightens it with a smug, victorious smile, then frowns at his reflection in the mirror. He leans closer to the glass, trying to figure out what’s bothering him about it. It’s probably the damn bowtie; it still doesn’t look very neat. His little brother will no doubt sigh a long suffering sigh and fix it when he sees him. Not that Dean cares all that much. Cas has never minded things being a little off center—his tie is probably worse than Dean’s. The thought makes Dean chuckle. He wishes Cas were here.

He and Cas have spent all day, every day  together since they got to the hotel, but Sam insisted on sticking to _some_ traditions. If Dean and Cas wanted to spend the night before the wedding together, then they should at least get ready for the ceremony separately—even if there was no bride the grooms wouldn’t be allowed to see. They reluctantly agreed. Cas is getting ready in Sam’s room, while Dean is trying to fix his bowtie in theirs, alone.

He pours himself a glass of water to make sure his throat won’t be too dry to recite his vows. Garth revised the traditional vows a little for them—Dean still can’t believe _Garth_ is officiating their wedding, but the guy lit up when they asked him—so Dean has no idea what to expect, but if the vows Garth wrote for his own wedding are any indication, theirs will be good.

Dean sits down on toilet lid and looks around the bathroom, sipping his water. The bathroom is a complete mess. There are clothes and towels all over the floor. Dean makes a mental note to leave a nice tip for the maid. Their toiletries are scattered over the sink and lined up on the floor next to the bathtub. Castiel said he was surprised Dean didn’t mind the clutter, since he always keeps their home so tidy.

Knowing Sam would come for Cas early in the morning, they disappeared to their room last night before dinner, ordered room service, hung out in their sweatpants, exchanged lazy kisses and took a bath together. Dean smiles as he remembers the feeling of Cas’ back pressed against his chest while they relaxed in the foamy water. Cas loves baths. He loves watching his fingers prune and the foam slowly disappear, loves the splashing of the water whenever he moves even the slightest. They’ve been at the hotel for three nights, and each night they’ve taken a bath. Cas bought bathbombs when he found out their room would have a tub large enough for two, though Dean vetoed the ones with glitter. He’s not going to look like an over enthusiastic stripper in his wedding pictures.

A knock on the door makes Dean’s heart trip over itself. Maybe it’s Cas, having escaped Sam’s clutches and coming to him for safety.

‘Dean?’ Sam’s voice calls from the other side of the door. Damnit.

‘Coming!’ Dean quickly opens the door. The lights in the hallway flicker and he frowns. Everything better keep working until after the reception. ‘What’s up?’

‘It’s almost time. You ready?’

Sam looks almost as excited as Dean feels. He’s six foot three of suited-up puppy excitement, his eyes shining and a grin on his face.

‘Beyond ready,’ Dean grins back. He’s heard all the the stories about pre-wedding jitters, cold feet, the doubts, but all Dean feels is relief and happiness. He’s finally getting married to the love of his life.

Sam huffs when he sees the state of Dean’s tie. ‘I don’t get how you always manage to do Cas’ ties perfectly, but mess up your own. You know he refused to let me fix his? Said you’d do it for him when you see him.’

Dean smiles at the prospect, and Sam shakes his head at the ridiculousness of his brother and future brother-in-law. Dean tilts his chin up and Sam fixes the messy knot. When he’s done, Sam claps Dean on the shoulder and starts walking in the direction of the field where they’re holding the ceremony. Dean pulls the door shut behind him with the nagging feeling he’s forgetting something, but he pushes the thought aside and follows Sam’s manbun outside.

Cas is waiting for him at the start of the light blue carpet that serves as their aisle, and Dean’s breath catches when Cas turns towards him. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Cas in a suit that actually fits. Cas hasn’t worn a suit since he left his family’s business, preferring jeans and hoodies for his current job, but Dean will never forget how he used to swim in those suits when they first met. This suit isn’t anything like those old ones, not just because it fits. The cut accentuates Cas’ broad shoulders and slim hips, and Dean has never before realized how long Cas’ legs really are. Cas is an absolute vision. His hair, like Dean’s, is parted to one side, but it appears they had less success at taming the stubborn mess of hair. Cas’ shirt is so white it’s almost blinding, his blue eyes sparkle in the late morning sun, and his bowtie is an absolute disaster.

Dean chuckles and steps up to his almost-husband.

‘Come here,’ he says, grabbing Cas’ hand and pulling him close. He tips Cas’ head up with a tap of his finger against Cas’ chin and quickly fixes the little bow. When he’s done, he can’t help but smooth his hands down Cas’ chest, feeling the firm body underneath.

‘There’s plenty of time to feel him up later,’ Sam says from behind him.

‘We were having a moment, Sam,’ Cas says, directing a frown over Dean’s shoulder.

Sam sighs, and Dean suspects his brother just threw his hands up in exasperation.

‘Come on. Let’s get married,’ Dean grins, grabbing Cas’ hand and twining their fingers together. Though, before they start their walk up the aisle, he can’t resist planting a small kiss at the corner of Cas’ lips.

There was quite a discussion of how they were both going to get to the altar. Neither of them has anyone to walk them down the aisle. Sam offered to walk Dean, but it hadn’t felt right. Walking one after the other seemed too awkward. Charlie suggested they walk the aisle together.

From the moment Dean steps onto the blue carpet, Cas’ hand firmly clasped in his, the rest of the world fades away. It’s just him and Cas in their own private bubble of happiness. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought that he’s going to look like a maniac in the pictures pops up, but right now he doesn’t care.

He lets Cas direct him onto the dais, gentle hands putting him in the right place. As he’s looking into Cas’ eyes, hears Garth’s voice and Sam’s snivels in the background, the thought that there’s something he’s supposed to do keeps nagging at him. When Garth pokes him in the side to repeat the vows, Dean straightens. He’s supposed to pay attention.

‘I, Dean Winchester, promise to love you, Castiel Milton, to protect you from harm, to stand by your side, both in the good times, and when everything seems to be going down the crapper.’

Cas bites his lip to keep in his laughter, but his smile lights up his face, making Dean stumble over his words as he continues.

‘I- I promise that making you the happiest man will come before taking care of Baby, even- even before pie.’ Dean huffs out a watery laugh, the happy tears in his eyes making it a little hard to see. He wipes them with his sleeve, but it doesn’t help much. It’s almost like there’s something in his eyes blocking half his vision. It doesn’t matter, he can still see Cas perfectly fine, his eyes shining in the morning sun, if a little blurry. ‘I promise to be yours, until—’  

The something in Dean’s eye expands. What he’d taken for Cas’ eyes seen through the blurriness of tears, is a blue light. It’s hard, like a punch in the gut or a car crash. It’s dark and consuming. Most of the landscape and the hotel have already been sucked into it.

‘Dean, what’s wrong?’ Cas asks.

Dean turns to him and tries to blink the image before him away, but he can’t. Cas’ eyes are too dark, and his skin has taken on an unhealthy gray hue. His voice is lighter than it should be, not the gravely one Dean knows and loves.

‘You don’t see it?’ Dean asks, looking around, panicked. He wants to shout at everybody to run, but there is nowhere to run to. The people in the back row are already consumed by the dark light. It appears to be gaining speed and is already halfway down the rows of chairs. Dean can only watch as Kevin and his mother get swallowed up, their dark eyes unconcerned, empty even. The cloth flowers Jo and Ellen’s dresses have on their hips melt as the light washes over them, making them look like blood. Dean closes his eyes as the light reaches his mom, Gabriel and Anna in the front rows. He doesn’t turn around, can’t bear to see his brother disappear.

Dean grabs Cas’ hand with the notion that if he just holds on tight, at least the two of them will be fine.

‘Dean?’ Cas asks, sounding confused. The next time Cas calls his name it’s louder and right by his ear. ‘Dean!’

Dean’s eyes fly open. He’s still holding Cas’ hand, but instead of standing next to him, Cas is leaning over him, a worried look on his face. Dean is lying on a cold, hard floor. Black spots swim in his vision and there’s a ringing in his ears. He must’ve fainted and hit his head.

When he looks around, Dean expects to find shocked wedding guests, a blue sky, green grass, Sam and his mom looking worried, Charlie making a relieved but terrible joke. What he finds instead are concrete walls, a concrete floor, some bits of wood in one corner. When he looks past Cas, up to the ceiling, he sees industrial lighting fixtures. A warehouse or a basement, Dean thinks. Maybe a warehouse basement.

Disoriented and confused, he sits up to get a better look around. Cas lets go of his hand, and Dean feels even more lost. There’s a man lying on the floor, blue tattoos all over his body and blue blood leaking out a wound in his chest. The tattoos appear to be shining, emitting the same dark and consuming light that had sucked up their wedding, but it’s fading fast.

‘The djinn,’ Dean whispers. _It hadn’t been real. None of it had been real_. He’d known, of course, felt it the entire time. He wanted it all to be real so badly, he ignored the little voice that’s saved him so many times before.

‘Dean. Are you alright?’ Cas asks, his eyebrows contracted in worry, and there’s a pinched look about his lips. Dean feels the urge to reach out, smooth all the worried crinkles from Cas’ face.

‘Just getting my bearings. Coming out of that is disorienting as hell.’

Cas nods but doesn’t look entirely convinced. ‘Can you stand up?

It takes both of them to get Dean on his feet, and even then Dean can’t stay upright on his own. It’s not easy, using Cas as a crutch, when he wishes he could get closer. They’re not there. Not yet.

They’ve only admitted their feelings for each other a couple weeks ago, it’s still a little awkward sometimes, living together while not _living together_. It’s easy to see why the djinn’s illusion worked so well, why Dean hadn’t tried to get out of it. He had everything he wanted. A normal life with Cas. No monsters but the IRS. Those first cups of coffee in the morning he remembered in the illusion were real, so is the fact that Cas hasn’t worn a suit in a while, not since he lost the last of his grace.

Cas helps Dean up a set of stairs. Seems he was right about this being a warehouse basement. Just as they round the corner into the hallway of the ground floor, they meet Sam. The djinn even included Sam’s newfound love for buns.

‘Nice to see you, too,’ Dean grumbles at the gun pointed at his face.

‘Sorry,’ Sam says, lowering the gun. ‘The rest of the building is clear. You both okay?’

‘Ye—’

‘I think Dean might have a concussion,’ Cas interrupts. ‘We should check once we get back home. And make sure he doesn’t fall asleep in the car.’

‘Alright. I’ll take care of the body. You get him to the car.’

Dean is staring out the window, letting the view pass him by without really seeing it. He can feel Cas’ gaze on him from the opposite end of the backseat. Cas must’ve felt Dean’s need for space, because he’s not trying to touch him—he’s not even attempting conversation. It feels good having Cas watch over him, making sure he’s okay. At the same time, having him so close is painful too. He could reach over and hold Cas’ hand. Cas would probably squeeze his hand in reassurance, give him that soft smile he has reserved only for Dean.

Dean doesn’t grab Cas’ hand, doesn’t twine their fingers together, because if he did, he’d want to curl into Cas’ side, rest his head on Cas’ chest and listen to his heartbeat. He’d want Cas to wrap an arm around him and hold him close. The need is so great that Dean barely keeps from flinging himself into Cas’ arms.

They’re not there yet, Dean reminds himself. Not yet. All they’ve had are a couple coffees and a shared piece of pie. They haven’t even kissed. He just needs to shake off this weird djinn dream. He needs to keep breathing and remember that it wasn’t real.

Sam tries to start a conversation after almost an hour of silence, but Dean isn’t in the mood and Cas is too focussed on Dean. The rest of the drive, nothing but the sounds of Metallica fill the car.

Back at the bunker, Sam checks Dean for a concussion and other serious injuries that would require keeping Dean under observation, but he finds none. Dean goes to bed. Sam and Cas’ concerned gazes burn holes in his back as he leaves the room.

The bunker is big, especially for three guys who have never owned a home. It makes it feel lonely sometimes, but Dean is grateful for the space now. Avoiding your brother and your sort-of-boyfriend is a lot easier when you have about thirty rooms to hide in, not counting any of the supply and broom closets.

He knows they’re worried, he can see it over breakfast and dinner, in the way there is suddenly a lot less beer and vodka to be found—most likely courtesy of Sam. And his avoiding them is hurting Cas. That’s the worst thing about it all, but every time Dean thinks he’s going to be okay, that he won’t feel that _tug_ of longing, the image of Cas waiting for him in his tailored suit, bowtie crooked and a smile on his face resurfaces. So he leaves the room, goes for a drive, tells Cas “not now” when he offers to keep Dean company.

It’s been almost a week of Dean is mindlessly browsing the internet, clicking on any link that seems mildly interesting. And today is no different. He’s sitting in the library and hasn’t heard either Sam or Cas walking around in a while, so when Cas suddenly appears he almost jumps out of his chair.

‘Dean? What are you still doing up?’ Cas asks from the doorway. He’s wearing pajamas and looks sleep ruffled.

‘Didn’t realize it was so late,’ he admits. According to the clock on his laptop, it’s almost three in the morning. He slams the laptop closed and stretches. He goes to stand up, but Cas moves into the room and takes the seat next to him, looking at him with concern.

Dean always feels exposed under Cas’ scrutinizing gaze, like Cas can still read his mind. It’s not such a weird thing to think. Cas has become an expert at reading Dean’s face and body language since Dean told him mindreading was creepy.

‘Dean, are you okay? You have been acting differently ever since the djinn.’ Cas reaches out a hand to Dean’s, but Dean pulls his hand back, placing it in his lap. A hurt look flashes over Cas’ face. ‘Did you see something that made you… not want this anymore?’

Dean sighs and shakes his head. He rubs a hand over his face and looks up to the ceiling, wishing there was still a god up there to give him strength.

‘Then what’s wrong?’ Cas hesitates for a moment before asking the next question. ‘What did you see?’

They haven’t asked him before. Djinn illusions are your deepest wishes and desires, they’re personal. When they saw how quiet Dean was during the ride home from the warehouse, both Sam and Cas respected his privacy, probably for the first time ever.

Dean thinks about lying, thinks about telling Cas that it was the same kind of illusion as the first time he’d been captured by a djinn, with his mom alive and Sam happily engaged to Jess. But he’s tired of keeping everything inside, of the images playing over and over in his mind. He’s tired of missing Cas.

‘Our wedding,’ he admits, looking down at his hands. ‘It was our wedding day. Everybody was there—Charlie, Kevin and his mom. Jo, Ellen and Ash were there. And our mom. Anna was there, too, sitting next to Gabriel. Your family still mostly consisted of dicks, though, so it was just them.’

This time when Cas reaches out, Dean doesn’t pull away. He lets his hands be enveloped by Cas’. When Cas was still an angel they’d been soft, but after a couple years of hunting they’ve become rough with scars and calluses.

‘I’m sorry,’ Cas whispers. ‘You must miss them a lot.’

Dean nods, throat closing up and heart beating out of his chest as he waits for Cas to continue.

‘Is that something you’d want, Dean? To get married?’ Cas asks. His hands hold Dean’s a little tighter and he ducks his head to catch Dean’s eye.

Dean looks up. Cas’ expression is open and hopeful, giving Dean just the little bit of courage that he needs. Pulling one of his hands free and placing it on Cas’ cheek, Dean draws him close till their foreheads are resting together. He keeps looking at Cas when he says, ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

Cas’ smile is gummy and blinding. ‘Me too.’

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


End file.
